Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
brb i will read and reply sincerely
but i respect your search
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
hiding from the rain
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.